relationships

You Pushed My Helper Button

by

I woke up at two in the morning and wondered if it was to in the morning, or too in the morning, or two in the morning. La Flor and Little Carmen are sucking me into the vortex of misused and abused uses of two, too, and to. I couldn’t go back to sleep. I tried counting to hundred, but couldn’t get past to, or is it too, or two. At four twenty to or too or two, I decided La Flor and Little Carmen were going to attend my class to learn about two, too, and to.

The three of us sat in the living room. I thought a comfortable atmosphere might help them learn. La Flor and Little Carmen sat on the sofa. I sat on a chair off to La Flor’s right, but where we could all see each other.

“No holding hands. It won’t take long if you tw …” I caught myself and said, “both pay attention.”

Little Carmen took his hand away from La Flor and put his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder.

I felt exasperated. I said, “You two separate. Little Carmen, you move to that end, and La Flor you move to the other end.”

“Ray?” asked La Flor.

“What?”

“I don’t want too correct the teacher, but you should have said, ‘You to.” And, you should have said move two the other end. Maybe I should teach this class.”

“That’s just it, La Flor you have it wrong. You’ve got your two, to, and too’s mixed up.”

Little Carmen was taking selfies and didn’t hear a word I said to La Flor. La Flor followed my eyes to Little Carmen. She said, “I want too do that to.” She reached in her handbag and pulled out her smartphone.

Little Carmen looked at her, “Text me a selfie and I’ll text use a selfie. Ray-mo, use wants too borrows my smarty phone after I text a selfie two the beautiful, tough, and edgy woman?”

Am I experiencing the life of a classroom teacher? I make a silent promise to support higher teacher salaries and an automatic entry into heaven at journey’s end.

“Break time,” I said. “I’ll get the coffee, bagels, and cream cheese.”

“Don’t forget the fruit and my Greek yogurt,” said La Flor.

“I want my Danish and donuts,” said Little Carmen.

“What about the bagels and cream cheese?” I asked.

“Is this a trick question?” asked La Flor, now laying on the sofa with her head on Little Carmen’s lap. She was scrolling through her selfies. There are thousands of them. She only has photos of herself. She deleted Little Carmen’s selfie as soon as it arrived.

“Break’s over,” I said.

“When are we gonna have recess?” said Little Carmen.

A good idea to teach about two, too, and to? No, it was not a good idea. Maybe flash cards would help. Big Bird singing a ditty about two, too, and to. A prize to anyone who passed the final exam. I should have thought of incentives.

La Flor, whose head was still on Little Carmen’s lap, lifted her eyes from her smartphone to look at Little Carmen. This is something she’d never done before. She stared into two large nostrils reminding her of a tunnel that goes through the Rocky Mountains, a two-day grunge beard, eyebrows marching toward the midway point to connect. She sat up as if she woke from a nightmare.

“Ray, send LC to the office. He’s disrupting class,” she said.

“What office?” I said.

“Use wants me to sits in use office, Ray-mo until we can talk? You’re not gonna call Big Carmen and tell on me, right?” asked Little Carmen.

“No, I’m not getting parents involved,” I said. Maybe I should under the sofa for my mind. I’m sure I lost it.

I knew La Flor needed to talk. Remember, I’m the sensitive male in this blog. Granted, my only competition is Little Carmen. I said, “Little Carmen, it is time for recess. There’s a pool hall five blocks over.”

“Geez, Ray-mo, this is better than real school. I gets to leave campus and play pool.”

After Little Carmen left, I asked La Flor, “What’s up?”

“Okay, first things first. Two is the number two. Too is used for also, very, or more than. To is a prepositional phrase and it can used as part of an infinitive. Did I pass?”

“Yes. But why did you use them incorrectly?” I asked.

“I thought I was in love with LC. I fell out of love with him again.”

“When?”

“When I looked up his nose. Did you realize how big it is? Then I saw his eyebrows. I wanted you to spray them with whatever you use to get rid of bugs, you know, PAM. I thought his eyebrows were caterpillars. When he said he wanted recess, Ray, I couldn’t take anymore.”

“It’s okay if your alt ego girlfriends get their hands on him?” I asked.

“I didn’t think of that. You confused me.”

“I did?”

“LC won’t survive. He’s vulnerable. He’s naïve. He’s too much for any of them. He’s all mine. All, I tell you. And, I’m not sharing any of him with any of them.”

“Are you back in love?” I asked.

“No. I’ll bring up a nose job at the right time. Talk about some laser work on the brows.”

“Why are you going to stay with him?” I asked.

“You pushed my helper button.”

“It was so big, I couldn’t miss it.”

“I really am a good person, Ray.”

“Mother Teresa could have used you.”

 

He’s The Perfect Accessory

by

I’m acting like a child. I am embarrassed. I am hiding in the closet. It’s the only place where I can find peace and quiet. There are no windows, but I have photos of the Grand Canyon, Padre Island, and the Rocky Mountain National Park scotched taped to the back of the door. Next to me is my Keurig Coffee Maker. My cup of coffee, fresh, hot, and all mine, until . . .

“Ray, I know you’re in there,” said La Flor*.

“No, I’m not,” I said in a falsetto voice and realized the mistake I made by saying, ‘No, I’m not.’ Hopefully, she won’t pick up on it.

“I know it’s you. I can smell my coffee,” said La Flor

“How do you know? Your coffee?” I’ve truly lost it. I’m hiding from an alt ego and her boyfriend. I’m using a falsetto voice as a disguise. And, now, I’m debating whether I’m in here or not. Where’s Dr. Phil when you need him. That’s right, according to La Flor, he’s an alt ego.

“Either come out, Ray or LC will break down the door and drag you out. It’s for your own good,” said La Flor.

“My own good is to stay inside here until you two, too, or to go out for chicken wings,” I said.

“Do you have a stuttering problem? Asked La Flor.

“No.”

“It sounded like you stuttered when you said to, two, or too,” said La Flor.

“You’re not going to let me alone until I come out, am I correct?” a moment of silence. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t want Little Carmen to kick down the door. I said, “What?”

“I nodded my head, Ray. What are you waiting for?” said La Flor.

I can’t answer. There is no logical response to seeing a head nod while behind the door. If I had a white flag, I’d wave it. I opened the door, coffee in hand, and stepped out.

La Flor reached for the cup, took it from me, and sipped, “This is good. I needed a good cup of coffee. Thanks, Ray.”

Will I ever get to drink a cup of coffee? I wonder what the Vegas odds are on that one.

Little Carmen, who occasionally can read my mind and little else, said, “About 75 to 1.”

La Flor looked at him, “Is it football season already?”

“No, beautiful, tough, and edgy sometimes a thought comes into my head.”“I like it better when you’re thoughtless.”

“I like it better when you’re thoughtless.” said La Flor.

“Me two,” said Little Carmen (it’s really not that hard to use too instead of two. Why can’t he get it?).

“We need too talk, Ray,” said La Flor (Okay, La Flor is using too instead of to – did they both miss it in alt ego grade school?).

“You’re always saying we need to talk,” I replied.

“No, I’m not. Sometimes I’m saying where are we going tonight. Sometimes I’m saying LC I need a glass of wine.”

Little Carmen interrupted La Flor before she could give another example, “I’m on it. White vino, which rhymes with dino, beautiful, tough, and edgy woman who needs to speak to Ray about whatever.”

“Yes, LC, not in a Styrofoam cup this time,” said La Flor.

“That’s the way Big Carmen serves it,” said LC.

I want to go back into the closet. No, I want to climb on the roof and signal passing planes to send help.

“I don’t care if he serves it in a Starbucks venti cup, I want it in a fancy wine glass.”

“Use gonna get more if I goes and gets a Starbucks venti cup,” said Little Carmen. The expression on his face looked like he was pleased with himself.

If she sends Little Carmen to Starbucks as she did yesterday, I wondered if the paramedics will bring him back.

La Flor turned to me and said, “Ray, it’s time for an intervention.”

I said, “Please don’t watch Dr. Phil or talk to the alt ego who plays Dr. Phil.”

Then Little Carmen joined the conversation, “I can helps you, beautiful, tough, and edgy wonderful woman. I am very goods at interventions. I intervented a square pizza cutter.”

“You intervented a square pizza cutter? How does it work?” I asked.

“Use uses it for square pizza. The round pizza cutter is for the round pizza. Nobody thoughts of that before me. That’s not alls I intervented, Ray-mo,” said Little Carmen.

“Why? Ray. Why?” said La Flor.

“I’m asking myself the same question,” I said.

Little Carmen is warming up for what, I don’t have a clue. Certainly, Seinfeld isn’t coming on next. He said, “I intervented a menu use can reads upside down.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Use asks the customer if they wants the regular menu or the upside down menu. If they asks for the upside down menu, I gives them the regular menu and tells them it’s upside down.”

“Little Carmen, good idea about the Starbucks venti cups. Can you get two of them?” I asked.

“I’ll have to buy coffee first, then dump it out. Is that okay?”

As soon as he left, I turned to La Flor, “Why don’t you hold an auction for him with the alt ego girls?”

She glared at me, “And let go two-hundred five pounds of male hunkiness go? Never.”

“I don’t think you love him,” I said.

“I’m not talking love. I’m talking accessory,” La Flor responded.

“Accessory?” I asked.

“He goes perfect with whatever I’m wearing,” said La Flor smiling. She’s staring out the window watching Little Carmen jog to Starbucks.

“Ray, Ray, I just had a horrible thought,” she shrieked.

“Take it easy. I’m here for you,” I said. I immediately regretted using that line and hoped she wasn’t listening to me.

“I know you’re here. It’s LC. You sent him alone, without a guardian to Starbucks. He’s probably fighting the women off. He’ll come back disfigured. He’s doing this all for me.”

“You’re the lucky one.”

“I won’t be if they maim him. I can see it now, he’ll be outside Carmen’s Pizzeria selling slices with his left hand because they cut off his right hand for a souvenir.”

“You’re not making sense, La Flor.”

“I always make sense. Go save him.”

“Can I call the paras?”

 

 

He’s a Chick Magnet

by

I’m watching my favorite Netflix series. I discipline myself not to binge watch. I want to pace it out, extend my enjoyment. Then the front door opens, I hear footsteps. Then the voice.

“Ray, I need a vacation. I’m wearing out the treadmill you’ve put me on. All I do is work, work, and work some more,” said La Flor* nudging her main squeeze Little Carmen.

“That’s right, we needs a vacation,” said Little Carmen. Then he added, “I think I gots it right beautiful, tough, and edgy.”

“Almost right. Remember how the first line went, ‘La Flor needs a vacation.’ I’ve a Snicker’s bar and a small bag of nachos if you get it right,” said La Flor.

“I gots it, “Ray-mo, remember how the first line went? How’d I do beautiful, tough, and edgy?”

“Ray, I rest my case. I’m going nuts. LC, do me a big, really big fav and run over to the Starbucks on the other side of town and get me a white iced tea?”

“What’s about the one down the street? Do I has to run?”

“Yes, run. Walking might even be better. take your time. I don’t like the one down the street,” said La Flor then kissed Little Carmen on the cheek. Which was enough to push all the right buttons. Granted Little Carmen doesn’t have too many buttons (note how I use too correctly, unlike Little Carmen and La Flor).

La Flor nearly pushed Little Carmen out the door. She hollered, “Take your time LC, look both ways when you cross the street. Have a cold whipped drinks while you’re there and then get mine to go. It’s okay if you give it to a homeless person on a street corner.”

“Use is a saint, beautiful, tough, and edgy.”

La Flor turned to me, “Help me, Ray.”

“Pick a vacation spot?” I asked.

“No. One part of me wants to dump LC. And, the other part of me wants to keep LC. I’m caught in a tug of war and it’s tearing me apart.”

I’m trying to think what a sensitive male might say in a situation like this. ‘I’m here for you.’ No, I saw a Seinfeld episode with that line. ‘I’m listening.’ No, Fraser used that line in every show. ‘Suck it up and dump him.’ That doesn’t sound like a sensitive male. If only I could Google ‘sensitive male expressions.’ I can’t, La Flor’s expecting a response.

I said, “Want to sit out on the patio and talk?” I’m thinking I did pretty good.

La Flor said, “What? And, waste my time with psychobabble?”

“Where’d you pick up that term?” I asked.

“Dr. Phil’s script writer. You know, Dr. Phil is an alt ego. He’s not real like you and me. What you’re seeing is an actor play Dr. Phil the alt ego. The real alt ego hangs out at the alt ego singles club.”

“Dr. Phil is an alt ego?” I asked.

“Do I have to repeat everything. Now, let’s get back to my problem.”

“I forgot it’s all about you.”

“You’re learning,” said La Flor not catching my sarcasm.

I got La Flor out to the patio. I brought her a soda in a chilled glass with the exact amount of ice, one-fourth of the glass. At least, that’s La Flor’s measure of the exact amount of ice. I’m being very sensitive. I sat down opposite her and said, “What is it you don’t like about Little Carmen?”

“I don’t like the way he uses the word two for too when he should be using it for the word to.”

“And, not two?” I asked.

“Exactly!” said La Flor.

Two, too, and to are too troublesome to think about for too long. I Pushed ahead, the sensitive male that I am, “What is something you like about Little Carmen?” I asked.

La Flor put her index finger up to her lips, she was faking she was thinking, but I didn’t point it out, the sensitive male that I am. She moved her lips as she counted to six. Why six? No clue. She said, “He’s, no that’s not a strong point. He’s, no that isn’t it either. I know. He’s, no that doesn’t work either. It’s something about him. He has no good points for a beautiful, tough, and edgy, go for it all girl like me. He has one thing, just one thing.”

She said, “He’s, no that’s not a strong point. He’s, no that isn’t it either. I know. He’s, no that doesn’t work either. It’s something about him. He has no good points for a beautiful, tough, and edgy, go for it all girl like me. He has only one thing, just one thing going for him.”

“What is it?” I am intrigued.

“He’s a chick magnet. I don’t want any other alt ego women to have him. He’s mine. All mine.”

“Let me see if I understand.”

“Not a chance,” said La Flor.

“Why not?”“You’re not one of the species who has the understanding gene.”

“You’re not one of the species who has the understanding gene.”

“I’ll rephrase. Let me see if I can summarize.”

“That’s better, Ray.”

I said, “There is nothing you like about Little Carmen. How am I doing?”

“So far, so good,” she said.

“He’s a chick magnet and all your alt ego girlfriends would grab him in a second and you won’t let that happen.”

“You got that straight,” said La Flor.

In the distance, getting closer was the wail of sirens.

La Flor rushed to the window. She turned to me, “Ray, it’s the paramedics. Oh no, LC must be hurt and they want me to identify his shattered remains. He must have jumped out of a window because he loved me so much. Ray, I don’t think I can take it. I hope he left a note that tells everyone how he didn’t deserve me because he didn’t.”

I looked out the window, the back of the ambulance opened, LC jumped out, one of the paramedics hands him his Starbucks carry all. The paras waved at Little Carmen as he LC jogged to the door.

I said, “He’s okay, La Flor. He got a ride in the ambulance to bring you your drink.”

“Out of my way, Ray.” Said La Flor rushing to open the door.

“Here’s your drink my beautiful, tough, and edgy you can have it all girl.”

“Put them down you big lug and hug me. Then we’ll go plan our vacation at Wineland.”

I’ll never understand those two, too, or to.

* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI.  It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.

 

What’s He Watching?

by

What are normal people doing at three a.m.? They’re sleeping. That is, unless they are working the night shift. That’s what I was doing, no I wasn’t working the night shift. I was in the deepest level of REM sleep, the kind of sleep that heals, renews, and when you wake in the morning you know it’s going to be a great day. Then my dreams shifted from the peaceful meadow with a clear creek running through, a few deer prancing in the distance, and the mountains smiling at me to the ground shaking, I was in an earthquake. I grabbed hold of a pine tree next to me. The earthquake grew stronger, I awoke from my nightmare holding my pillow tight to my chest. I opened my eyes to see La Flor and Little Carmen standing over me.

“Good morning, Ray,” said La Flor* a pleasant lilt to her voice.

“Was use having a nights mare? I hates night mares and day mares two (remember, LC says two for “too”).

I said, “What time is it? What are you doing in my room?”

“I wanted to talk and it couldn’t wait until you showered and had your coffee,” said La Flor.

I looked toward the covered windows, it was still dark, really, really dark. “Is it an emergency?” I asked.

La Flor tilted her head, “Not really. I didn’t want to think about it when I went back to bed. I probably wouldn’t fall asleep.”

I didn’t know what to say. Then I heard the gravel voice.

“I like omelets for breakfast,” said Little Carmen.

La Flor patted him on his head, and said, “Be a good boy and go lie on the couch, now go. You can have your omelet later.”

“I’m on my way beautiful, tough, and edgy to be determined,” said Little Carmen.

It was the last part of his sentence, there was something about it that might be important, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

From the living room, the gravel voice with a sense of urgency, “Can I watch cable?”

“If you don’t get off the couch,” said La Flor rolling her eyes.

A second later, the gravel voice again, “Can I get off the couch to get the remote?”

I wasn’t sure if the earthquake was the nightmare or if this is the nightmare. I lose either way.

“I’ll bring you a treat when I’m through talking with Ray if you’re quick about it,” said La Flor.

“I’ll be quicker than if you counts to four backward from too (that’s how he says two, confusing, right?).

I was sitting in bed trying to wrap my head around counting backward from two and somehow reaching four. I heard La Flor.

“I’m at two and a quarter are you back on the couch?”

“I’m almost there. Did I make it?”

“Good boy, LC.”

Is she treating Little Carmen like a large dog or a little child? I know I can mix metaphors with the best of the metaphor mixers. What La Flor is doing is new territory for me. She’s going where no alt ego has gone before. (Sorry StarTrek fans, I couldn’t help myself).

I checked my iPhone, it was 3:07 a.m. “Can we make this quick? I want to go back to my peaceful meadow.”

“I have three questions, Ray, that’s all. Easy squeezy. I love that expression. LC taught it to me. Sometimes I use sneezy instead of squeezy. And sometimes I use breezy instead of squeezy.”

“I get the point. Brilliant adaption of word usage,” I said, then wondered why I encourage her.

“Disappointed you didn’t think of it first? It was LC, then I took it a bit further,” said La Flor now sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Devastated. Now what are the three Questions,” I said, I was willing to make up any answer. I wanted to go back to sleep. I hope I can find that position again.

“Here you go, Ray. Q one. Q stands for questions; when I say Q it helps us to get to the point faster. Do you agree?”

I replied, “Oh yes, please use Q and use it frequently.”

“Q one, I’m changing careers. I want to be a shrink.”

My apologies to all psychologists, psychiatrists, and counselors. If you have a problem, take it up with La Flor, por favor. I said, “Go for it.”

“Great, Q one is answered. Here’s Q too (I can see Little Carmen’s growing influence on La Flor, she used too instead of two. My world is spinning out of control). Can I use our living room for my group sessions?”

Group sessions? Our living room? Where was I? Is there a way out? Will they follow me if I find my way out? What the heck, I said, “Sure, why not. Can I go back to sleep?”

She waggled an index finger at me, “Ray, Ray, Ray we have one more Q. Q three and it rhymes with me.”

“You’re naturally poetic,” I said. It was now 3:22 a.m.

The sound from the living room threatened to make me deaf. “What’s he watching?”

“LC loves this show called Heavy Metal Rockers face off in a Death Cage Match with Violinists.”

“This is a show?”

“It’s really, really popular on cable.”

I need a support group. “What’s Q 3?” I said over the crash of a violin on the head of a Heavy Metal Rocker, then the profanity laced tirade of the Heavy Metal Rocker telling the violinist where he was going to insert the violinist’s bow if he caught him. Little Carmen was cheering for the rocker.

“He’s so cute when he gets excited,” said La Flor.

“Q 3, por favor.”

“I forgot. It couldn’t have been important. Ciao, Ray. I’m going to finish watching the show with LC.”

Sleep? Precious sleep? If you can’t beat them, join them. I wrapped my blankets around me and sat on the couch staring at something that shouldn’t be allowed on cable or to exist on the planet. I couldn’t take anymore. I got up and said, I’m going to get dressed and go to all night Starbucks.

“We’ll go with you. LC will record it so we can watch it later,” said La Flor, the beautiful, tough, and edgy shrink.

 

* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI.  It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Good Puppy

by

I have no secret hiding places. My sacred space evaporated with the morning dew. Actually, faster than the morning dew. Alone time? What is it? I feel like a third-rate character in a B movie. Okay, I write the script, but I’ve lost control. How can I lose control to the script I’m writing, you ask? You’re asking the wrong writer. Somewhere, who knows how many blogs ago, I took a right turn, or was it a left turn, maybe I kept walking straight ahead, it’s all a blur. I entered the world of alt egos.

I’m not the first one to have this experience. The cult television show, The Prisoner, from the sixties and more recently, The Truman Show present the similar dilemmas. Those were movies. This is a real life situation and 911 won’t listen to me. I’ll stop here, I hear her.

“What’s up, Ray? You look lost in thought?” said La Flor, taking a seat at the patio table. Of course, she took my coffee cup, help it up to me for a warm up. She wrapped both hands around it and smiled at me.

“Where’s Little Carmen?” I asked. I said a silent prayer the mob kidnapped him. I didn’t much care which mob.

“I sent him outside. I needed a break, you know some quiet time. He’s probably sitting on the front steps wondering when I’ll let him in,” she said.

I wondered if Little Carmen chased squirrel’s, or cars, yelled at postmen, growled at anyone walking down the street. Do I need a sign in the front yard, BEWARE OF LITTLE CARMEN for insurance purposes?

“Whatcha thinking about, Ray?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all,” I answered.

“You’re thinking of something. I know you’re thinking something. I’ll figure it out sooner or later. Enough of you. It’s me time,” said La Flor.

How do you respond to that kind of comment? I thought of two or three responses and they’d all turn out bad. I had a strong desire to grab the coffee pot and drink directly from it. Mental note, bring two cups. Make it three in case Little Carmen shows up.

La Flor broke the silence, “I’ve decided to become a two-career woman.” She held up her hand, policeman style, forbidding me to speak. Then she continued. “I am beautiful, tough, and edgy. I’m keeping my PI shtick.”

“It certainly is a shtick,” I said.

“Thank you, Ray. I’ve decided to be a food critic. You know the phantom dinner. LC will travel with me. He knows food and can give me pointers.”

“Do you mean Phantom Dinner or Phantom Diner?” I asked.

She shook her head, “You’re not listening, Ray. Your head is not in the game. You’ve got a big part in this.”

That got my attention. I turned my chair to directly face La Flor. I kept repeating to myself, ‘Ray, listen. Don’t agree to anything. Think it over.’ The problem for me was I had a lot to remember and repeat it while I am trying to listen to La Flor.

She continued, “Since we’re just starting out, we need a driver, someone to pay for our meals until a syndicate picks us up, or the Food Channel. And, someone to work with LC with the menus. That’s where you come in.”

“That’s a lot of work.”

“It’ll be fun hanging out with LC and me.”

“It will?”

“I’m going to call LC in and tell him the good news. Do you have anything good to eat?”

“Everything I have is good to eat.”

“I mean a cookie, candy bar, you know what I mean.”

“No, but I have dates, raisins, and blueberries,” I said.

“Who are you dating? I didn’t know. How long have you been dating? What does she look like? Do I know her? Tell me everything,” said La Flor bending toward me.

Do I tell her I’m dating a dried fruit? How will that sound?

“Come on, Ray, give it up,” La Flor insisted.

I owe Little Carmen one, from outside the front door, he interrupted, “Beautiful, tough, and edgy PI, I misses use. Can I come in?”

“Isn’t he the sweetest, Ray? Where are the raisins? He needs something for being good.”

“You sure you didn’t send him to obedience school?”

Tomorrow the Phantom Diner may be at your favorite restaurant.

Change happens. It’s a part of life. If we don’t want to change, life’s circumstances often tell us we have to change. La Flor switching careers is a change. Will it work out? Who knows? At least La Flor had the courage to try something different. I like her attitude.

* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI.  It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tell Him to Grovel

by

“La Flor*, you have to come out of your room. It’s not healthy. You’ve been in there all day. You haven’t eaten anything. What is bothering you.”

“What’s that? I wouldn’t understand?”

“I think I might. I’m one of the sensitive males, give me a try.”

“There are no sensitive males, what makes you say that?”

“Why should I study my species?”

“I think some males are sensitive even though you haven’t met one.”

“That includes me? What did I do? You won’t tell me? Does that make sense? It does? At least come up to the door and keep it between us. Yes, I promise I won’t look through the keyhole. Yes, I promise I won’t quickly open it. Now talk to me.”

I sat down next to the door. It was not going to be quick or easy. La Flor said, “Ray, Life is like a pizza with no toppings.”

“Interesting metaphor, La Flor,” I responded.

La Flor’s voice rising. She was settling into her onstage performance, “Life is like trying to ride on the back of a motorcycle when finally your hair is perfect and the dumb motorcycle driver doesn’t notice it.” if La Flor had a gun I think she would have started firing it through the door. Glad I didn’t write one in for her.

If La Flor had a gun I think she would have started firing it through the door. Glad I didn’t write one in for her.

“I have a feeling I know what’s happening,” I said.

“You? How could you know? You’re a man. You’re in their club.”

“We have a club?” I asked.

“Yes and no beautiful, tough, and edgy woman are allowed,” she said.

“I don’t want to be a PI anymore. I don’t have a reason to live.”

“La Flor, what is going on?”

“It’s all your fault, Ray.”

“My fault? What did I do? I only try to help.”

“You made me break up with Little Carmen.”

“That’s what this is all about?”

“Breaking up was your idea, remember?”

“It was not my idea.”

“You sent him to that Alt Ego boyfriend stealer JJ Peterson.”

“Do you want me to go back and read yesterday’s blog to you?”

“Pour salt into my bleeding wounds. Kick me while I am down. Hold my head underwater until I can no longer breathe. Force feed me raw veggies. Is this what you’re trying to do?” she said while giving the most pathetic sobs I’ve heard in years.

“Hold that thought. There is someone at the front door.”

La Flor, all of a sudden calm, said, “If it is LC, tell him he better apologize before I will see him again.”

“Why do you want him to apologize when you want him back?”

“It’s the way I do things,” she said.

“I understand. I’ll be right back.”

I walked to the front door, the knocking more incessant by the second. I opened the door. Standing in front of me with his apron on, covered with sauce stains that look like blood, flour over his arms and face, and his hair disheveled stood Big Carmen.

Big Carmen didn’t wait for me to say anything. He started talking and jabbing his stubby index finger into my chest. I backed up a step. He took a step forward. He said, “Ray, use and me we gots to talk. You know, man to men. My boy, the offspring of my lions, he cries all the time. It’s embarrassing. I have to keep him in the kitchen and tell him to make pizza with his back to the customers.”

“Did you mean offspring of your loins?” I asked.

“No, I meant what I meant. Everybody but use knows loins is a kind of meat. You ever hears of chicken loins?”

“No, I heard of beef loin.”

“Beef loin is overrated. It’s bad for use, it gots lots of those aunti’s oxidants. I’m talking chicken loin, its rare. The Chinese use it for an afro diesel app.”

“Do you mean aphrodisiac?”

No, I means what I meant.”

“I can see where Little Carmen learned all he knows from you, Big Carmen,” I said patronizingly.

“Thanks, man. Now what’s we going to do to get these two together.”

From her bedroom, “Is it LC?”

I turned and said, “It’s Big Carmen. Little Carmen wants to get back together.”

“Is he ready to apologize and make two promises?”

Big Carmen heard La Flor. He said, “He don’t apologize, he gets to be the dishwasher this week instead of the dishwasher being the dishwasher which is a machine if use understand how I brings pressure.”

“I do. Nice plan,” I said, I didn’t want Big or Little Carmen to turn violent. I figured the best way was to try to agree with them.

“What’s the first thing, then tell me the second thing after use tells me the first thing.”

“Did you understand that La Flor?” I said.

“I’ll start with the second thing because it’s more important than the first thing, but the first thing is almost as important as the second thing, but a tad more important than the third thing,” said La Flor.

I felt a migraine coming on.

Big Carmen used his flour coated, hairy arm to brush me aside. He stepped inside and walked to La Flor’s bedroom door. He said, “This is Big Carmen, beautiful, tough, and edgy PI. You tell Big Carmen whats use wants and use gets it.”

A moment of silence followed by another moment of silence followed by five more moments of silence.

“Use okay in there? asked Big Carmen.

“I was freshening up, here are my conditions, one, no tacky white windbreakers.”

“Done. I hated it. It was his Uncle Richie’s idea. He never had a good idea since I known him and I known him since he was a baby.”

“Okay. I never, ever, ever, ever want to ride on the back of a motorcycle again.”

“What about the front, so I can clarify it for Little Carmen.”

“Not the front, side, or back.”

“Anything else beautiful, tough, and edgy PI?”“I don’t want pizza every night. You make the best pizza in the city Big Carmen, but I have to watch my svelte figure.”

“I don’t want pizza every night. You make the best pizza in the city Big Carmen, but I have to watch my svelte figure.”

“I must say your figures is good figures, but don’t take that personal.”

“No offense taken, handsome.”

“Use got good taste beautiful, tough, and edgy PI. I send out for my dinner six nights a week BTW. I’d go nuts eating my food, which is very good, all the time. Can I bring Little Carmen in? He’s in the car hiding on the back seat.”

La Flor stepped out of her room as if she was going on the red carpet. “Don’t touch me, Big Carmen. I did this for LC. Bring the boy in, tell him to grovel a bit. I like groveling.”

I need some help, Big Carmen. You have some advice for my blog readers? 

Sure ting, Ray. Heads up, readers: If your pizza don’t turn out right, call Carmen’s Pizzeria, we delivers. 

That’s it? That’s the best you could do?

Best I could do after the stress of helping my boy out.

* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI.  It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.

 

The Day After The Night After

by

I am in my study and I hear La Flor’s* voice coming from the living room, “I think he’s in his study, L.C.”

A male voice with a sandpapery, gravel pit sound, said, “What’s he do in there, beautiful, tough, and edgy PI? Does he study? I never studies, it’s not good for your kidneys.” Little Carmen pronounced kidneys in two words, kids knees.”

“What’s that?” asked La Flor, she never paid attention in biology class because Bobby Genroe sat in front of her and La Flor and Bobby Genroe passed notes all during class. Bobby was kind enough to let La Flor copy his test during exams, which explains why they both retook biology during the first and then the second summer sessions.

Little Carmen feeling smart and desiring to demonstrate his high IQ said, “It’s simple beautiful, tough, and edgy PI if use watch Doctor Oz. We, that’s use and me, don’t have to worry about kids unless we gets together and if we do gets together and we wants kids. Then, I won’t study because I don’t want to hurt their knees. I always had good knees, that’s because Big Carmen never studied.” Little Carmen shakes his head toward the study, and said, “Does he mind if use bother him?”

La Flor working on her nails with an emory file said, “Oh no. He likes it when I bother him because I never bother him.”

“I am the same way. You never bothers me beautiful, tough, and edgy PI.”

Enter into my study La Flor, followed by Little Carmen, who is not little and fills my door frame.

“Hi, Ray. Got a minuto for Little Carmen and me?”

Little Carmen speaks from the door jam, “Hey, Ray. The beautiful, tough, and edgy PI, she’s really smart, if use don’t know. You hear how she talks another language. I don’t understand what she says but she says she’ll teach me.”

“The beautiful, tough, and edgy PI has a command over many languages, Little Carmen. I like your white windbreaker with your name in gold.”

Little Carmen turns around and shows off the back of the windbreaker. It says, “Carmen’s Pizzaria.” Little Carmen said, “All the employees get one. It’s one of the perkies.”

“I turn my attention to La Flor. I said, “I have a two or three minutos for you.”

I figured it out, Little Carmen’s voice is like one of those stations you want to pull in when you’re driving a long stretch across the west Texas desert. He said, “Do use guys mind talking in American sos I can understand whats that you’re saying?”

La Flor patted Little Carmen on his bicep. I saw his eyes spin like a slot machine. La Flor said, “We’re good friends, Ray, that’s all, but there are possibilities for more than friends, right, LC.”

“Use lead beautiful, tough, and edgy PI, I will follow wherever use wants to go, even if it’s to a Chinese restaurant, which I do not like. They use too much GMS.”

“Do you mean MSG?” I said.

Little Carmen’s little light turns on, “You’re mixed up, Ray. Use is thinking about texting, sometimes I see MSG for a message.”

“Thanks, Little Carmen.”

“Any time, Raybo. Any friend of the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI, is a friend of Big Carmen and Little Carmen.”

Raybo? What did Little Carmen mean by that? I think it is a good thing. I said, “What is it, La Flor?”

“You know I am …”

I finish it for her, “La Flor, the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI.”

“Exactly. I need muscle.”

On cue, Little Carmen lifts both his arms up to shoulder level and pumps both biceps. His biceps look like they belong in the Rocky Mountain National Park.

“Why do you need muscle, La Flor?” I asked.

She pondered the question. She looked at Little Carmen who is watching his right bicep pop, then turns his head to watch his left bicep pop. Then he looks back to the right and so on, and so on, and so on.

“Isn’t he cute?” said La Flor.

“I understand why you need muscle.”

La Flor turned around and threw her arms around Little Carmen’s neck, which is almost as big as her waist. She said, “LC, he said yes.”

“I did?” I said.

“Ciao, we’re going out for pizza?” she said.

“Where?”

“Duh? Carmen’s Pizzaria.

Relationships. Books are written about why we’re attracted to someone. Books are written how to make relationships work. My theory, people make relationships work because, suddenly, they care more about each other than they do about themselves. Each time I’ve seen people caring more about the other person in their relationship than themselves, I’ve seen the relationship flourish.

* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI.  It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.

 

 

His Name is Juan Der-Ful

by

Do you, at times, make impulsive decisions? I do. I made an impulsive decision earlier today I regret. In yesterday’s blog, La Flor* discovered a new main squeeze. His name is Juan. Like La Flor, Juan is an alt ego. I thought it would be a good idea if I invited La Flor and Juan to Carmen’s Pizzeria. It was a good idea because Carmen uses tacky plaid tablecloths, it’s small, and it’s mostly a take out business. Big Carmen and his son, little Carmen, who is bigger than Big Carmen are the cooks and waiters. I was sure La Flor would say no. She didn’t.  and, it is in Carmen’s Pizzeria where the following takes place.

We are sitting at one of six square tables. We’re the only people in Carmen’s other than Big Carmen and Little Carmen.

Juan said, “Nobody’s here.”

Big Carmen overheard Juan, and said, “Me and Little Carmen are here and use is here. So, what’s your problem? Use with the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI?”

Carmen has a way with the ladies.

La Flor puts a kiss on her palm and sends it off to Big Carmen. Big Carmen said, “If Gina was visiting her mother, I’d ask

Big Carmen said, “If Gina was visiting her mother, I’d ask use to come over. Not use, whoevers you are,” Big Carmen jabs a large flour covered forefinger toward Juan. Then he said,  “I’m talking to the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI.”

La Flor winked at Big Carmen. Then she said, “Now I know where Little Carmen gets his good looks.This table is perfect.”

Big Carmen turns toward Little Carmen, “The beautiful, tough, and edgy PI is one smart dame.”

Back at the table, La Flor said, “What are you doing Juan?”

“I was sitting down, La Flor.”

“Did you forget something?”

I know where this going. A fast ball catches the inside corner of the plate. Strike one. Juan’s young, naïve, self-centered, typical male at that age. I said, “She wants you to help her with her chair.”

Juan looks at the chair, then he looks at me. He looks back at the chair, then he looks at La Flor. I can almost feel his brain trying to make a connection it never made. It’s painful to watch. La Flor cocks a hip and puts a hand on it. I whisper to Juan, “Pull her chair out and don’t forget to slide it in under her as she sits down.”

“Oh. Thanks, man,” said Juan.

La Flor and Juan slide their chairs to the corner of the table. They are holding hands. La Flor, in my opinion, overdressed for Carmen’s, but if anyone can pull it off, it’s La Flor. Juan is staring at her, I want to ask Big Carmen if he has if a bib for Juan, he’s drooling. Instead, I want to get to know this alt ego better. I said, “What is your last name Juan?

Before Juan can answer, La Flor jumped in, she said, “I already told you. Are you sure you’re not having short-term memory problems, Ray?”

“You told me Juan’s last name?” I said.

“Duh, yes I did. His name is Juan Der Ful.”

Juan nodded his head, “Yes I have a hyphenated last name. My mother’s name is Dür and my father’s name is Ful so I’m Juan Der-Ful.”

“How did your parents chose the name Juan,” I asked.

La Flor squeezed Juan’s hand and said, “Do you mind if I tell him?”

Juan shrugs and said, “It’s okay.”

La Flor said, “When the nurse asked his mom what they wanted to name Juan, she said Won.”

“That makes sense.” I said.

“No, Ray. She said, Won.”

“Like the number,” I said.

“No, Ray. You are slow. Won, like winning a game.  It still works because Juan is Juan Der-Ful.”

Little Carmen who is six feet three inches tall, his dark grunge is spotted with flour. his chest and arms overdeveloped from lifting one-hundred-pound sacks of flour came over wearing his sauce and flour stained apron, “Whatchu guys want. How ya doin, beautiful, tough, and edgy PI? You free after? Maybe use and me we go dancing at the new hot alt ego dance club.”

La Flor gives Little Carmen an encouraging smile. Juan makes his first bad move, he gives off a slight scent of male testosterone.

Juan turns toward Little Carmen and is about to say something I fear he will regret until he visits an oral surgeon. Little Carmen spoke first, “Use better be giving me use order and not any crap about me asking the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI to go dancing after she dumps use for the night.”

Juan moved to male level two until he noticed the twelve-inch cutting knife in Little Carmen’s holding left hand. Instead, Juan said, “We haven’t seen menu’s.”

“That’s okay. Me and Big Carmen, we can make any pizza anybody wants, if they wants pizza. Do use wants pizza?” said Little Carmen waving the knife like he was conducting the symphony.

I saw it happen a couple of times before and it never worked out. Juan decides to go full throttle and impress La Flor. He said, “I’ll order for everyone.”

“I looked at La Flor. I know how picky she is about her pizza. And, she is not as picky as me. She rolled her eyes and slid her chair away from the corner of the table.

Juan said, “We want anchovies, lots of them. Don’t skimp. We want sausage baked into the crust. We want big black and green olives. I want you to spell La Flor with the olives. Instead of mozzarella can you use Velveeta.”

Juan sat back his chair, a sense of male pride sweeping over his body. His arms crossed over his chest.

Little Carmen bends over and puts his large, somewhat bent nose three inches from Juan’s face, and said, “The beautiful, tough, and edgy PI don’t like pizza like that. Whoever heard of pizza with Velveeta?”

Juan still being cool said, “Pizza Hut serves it.”

Bam, Little Carmen sticks the point of the knife into the tablecloth. “Big Carmen don’t use Velcheeta. And we don’t have lots of anchovies. Use gets four. No more.”

Big Carmen looks at La Flor, “Does the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI want her special pie with a glass of wine, on the house of course.”

Juan said, “I’ve had enough.”

Little Carmen turned back to Juan and said, “Use full already. That’ll be ten fifty. Thanks for coming. There’s the door.”

Juan looked at La Flor. La Flor was looking at Little Carmen.

I said, “Juan, it’s better if you leave. I’ll cover your tab.”
Today’s Lesson: A Little Carmen in the hand is worth two Juans in a bush (I know it’s not deep or profound. And, it doesn’t make much sense. It was the best I could do on a Saturday).

* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI.  It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.

 

 

Random Thoughts Flying Toward Me

by

There are times when the unexpected is normal. Living with La Flor* not like anything I previously experienced. The abnormal is normal. The unexpected is expected. And, as far as La Flor is concerned, the world and all its inhabitants, including at ego inhabitants revolve around her. For La Flor, this is life as it is meant to be.

This morning, for example, I decided to break my routine and pass up on the oatmeal and Greek yogurt and opt for a perfectly toasted English muffin, with organic peanut butter spread over it, filling every crevice; Then I drizzled dark golden brown raw honey on it. My taste buds were salivating. I went a bit overboard and sprinkled flax seeds on top of each half. I placed them on my plate and set my plate on the table on the patio. I returned to the kitchen and took hold of my coffee pot. I poured a cup. My coffee was hot, dark, and gave off a caramelly sweet aroma trailed by a hint of smokiness. All was right in my world. La Flor was sleeping, or so I thought. I sat, my hand reached for my cup of coffee when my reverie was broken.

La Flor said from 4 feet behind me, “Ray, is your shampoo safe?”

I need to become more aware the signs of random thoughts flying toward me from La Flor’s cosmos.

“I haven’t given much thought as to whether or not my shampoo was safe, La Flor,” I said without turning around.

“You should,” she said, pulling a chair up next to me and taking my cup out of my hand.

I said, “There are so many other important things to worry about besides shampoo. There are cups in the cupboard.”

“Is that so?” She said and took hold of one-half of my English muffins. She looked at it, and said, “Next time leave the flaxseed off for me, Ray. They get caught in my teeth.”

“I’ll have to remember that, La Flor.”

She took a small bite, chewed for a second, then took a sip of my coffee.  After she swallowed, she said, “Coffee and an English muffin toasted to perfection with creamy peanut butter and raw honey is a great combo. You need to try it sometime.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “What about the shampoo?”
“Oh yah. You know when you’re washing your hair you’re just tossing chemicals on it. It’s not good for your skin or your hair.”

“Did you wash your hair today, La Flor.  It looks especially radiant.”

“Of course, I washed my hair.”

“Why are you complaining about my shampoo?”

“Do you think I would use your shampoo? The Target special.”

“I did not get it from Target.”

“Walmart?

“No.”

“Where did you purchase the plastic container of chemicals that can peel paint off a car?”

“I will tell you if you first tell me where you are getting your information.”

“Okay. My mystery writer friend and I stopped over at the natural food store. We were in the shampoo aisle when this guy took a look at me and fell in love on the spot. I have this effect on men.”

“My species can’t help themselves when you enter the room.”

“It’s a curse I live with,” said La Flor.This is new. What’s his name and what does he do?”

“What’s his name and what does he do?”

“He is a naturalist. His name is Juan.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“Are you talking about Juan or being a naturalist?”

“Let’s stay with naturalist for the moment.”

“For sure, Ray. It means he naturally fell for me.  Of course, he couldn’t help but fall for La Flor the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI.”

“How does he wash his hair?” I don’t know why I asked this question. I think I have low blood sugar. She is now eating the other half of my muffin.

“You’re getting very personal, do you care to rephrase that?”

“Okay, does he wash his hair with chemicals?”

“No, Ray he buys it the Natural food store. This goes with his being a naturalist and falling for me naturally and the shampoo container says all natural. It’s like the perfecto stormo.”

“And, why are you listening to him?”

“He is 6 feet 2.  He has the most gorgeous brown eyes. And, I think I’m in love. And, he has money.”

“Sounds like he has all the right qualifications. And, all this happened over shampoo?”

“Go figure,” La Flor said.

“Can you tell me a bit more about Juan?”

“He is Juan der ful.”

And to think how peaceful my day started. I said, “I think I’ll make myself an English muffin, do you want anything?”

“A warm up on my coffee, if you don’t mind.”

Our best plans often get interrupted. Getting upset or angry over the interruption doesn’t recreate the ideal we wanted. Going with the current eliminates the anger, resentment, and often offers some pleasant surprises. 

* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI.  It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.

 

 

What Is Life All About?

by

“What is life all about, Ray?”

I’m sitting at my desk trying to come up with a cute idea for today’s blog and La Flor* asks about the meaning of life. My head feels like it’s performing on the uneven parallel bars at the Olympics. I ask her for clarification, “Why are you asking me, La Flor*? Do I look like I’ve figured it out?”

“Not a chance. Who else is there to ask. I don’t see anyone else in the room with us, Ray.  Who do you think I was asking, if not you,” asked La Flor? A puzzled look on her face as she glances around the room.

I pondered her question. La Flor is serious. I can’t criticize her. I’ve had colleagues accuse me of being ADHD and that was one of their nicer compliments. I don’t know what prompted La Flor to ask me what life is all about.

I turned the question around and said, “What do you think life is all about, La Flor?”

La Flor looked at me, shrugged, and said, “I always do better in deep conversations with a glass of wine, crackers, and cheese. I know you don’t drink. I still can’t figure an Italian not drinking wine. This is one of the mysteries that Leflore, beautiful, tough, and edgy is trying to figure out. I’ll be right back.”

I’m trying to get used to La Flor slipping between the first and third person as if her conversation were normal. I’m still not used to it.

Five minutes later, La Flor places a glass half filled with Sauvignon Blanc,  a wedge of fresh buffalo mozzarella, and wheat crackers and the remainder of the bottle on my desk next to my laptop. I’m freaking out. What if she gets excited and knocks over her wine on my keyboard?

“Problemo, Ray?”

I do my guy thing showing nothing bothers me even when it really does. “No problemo, La Flor. I looked at her wheat crackers and tossed a bit of guy humor toward her, “Good thing you don’t have a gluten allergy,” I said.

“Ray, if we’re going to have a serious conversation about life back off and let me sip my wine, a few bites of my cheese and crackers and I’ll be ready. What would make you want to talk about glue? I don’t have a glue allergy I don’t use glue.”

I made a mental note about the tough part of the beautiful, tough, and edgy description. I’ve not seen it before. It fits.

La Flor took a sip of wine, another bite of mozzarella on a wheat cracker and then said,  “I’m trying to help you, Ray. I’ll keep it simple. Like you say, guy speak.”

“I can use all the help I can get,” I said.

“Life is like the perfect cup of coffee.”

“I hope Starbucks doesn’t steal that as a slogan. That’s pretty good, La Flor. What does it mean?”

“Am I being a little too deep for you, Ray?”

” I’m over my head in this conversation, La Flor.”

“The perfect cup of coffee has the right balance of boldness, a sassy flavor, and an aroma that makes you want to keep coming back for more,” La Flor said with a smug sense of self-satisfaction.

“I think I’m getting your point, La Flor. The perfect cup of coffee is like you.”

“I never thought of it that way, but there are striking similarities. And if I may continue…”

“Please do, La Flor. I’m interested in knowing more about what life is all about.”

La Flor poured more wine into her glass. She took another sip, and said, “When life is all wrong, it’s like a bad cup of coffee.”

“How’s so,” I said.

“Oh, Ray, you really need to get out more. You have to begin to have conversations with people who are interested in things other than the Boston Red Sox, the New England Patriots, Ohio State football, and good pizza venues.”

“I didn’t know there was more to life,” I said. I was worried she may be right. If she is, it will create an imbalance in my perfect world.

“No wonder, girls night out has become institutionalized. We need deep, intelligent, conversations free from football, baseball, and action-adventure flicks. It’s the kind of talk we can only get from each other.”

“Remind me if you would like to see the Spiderman movie with me this weekend?”

La Flor looked at me, then grabbed the bottle of wine to refill her glass. I wasn’t sure if I was the cause.

“You never explained to me how life going wrong is like a bad cup of coffee,” I said.

“Do I really. really need to explain to you what a bad cup of coffee tastes like?”

“I get your point. Did you get your question answered, La Flor?”

“What question, Ray?”

“What is life all about?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, Ray.  Why would you want to know? Are you having an existential crisis?”

“Where did you pick up that term? And do you know what it means?”

“I was practicing my PI stuff over at the philosophy blog. They were having a heated discussion about an existential crisis. I walked in and told them to take it to the UN to solve the crises.”

“How did that work?

“La Flor, beautiful, tough, and edgy PI stopped the argument. They couldn’t speak. I think the group leader was hyperventilating. They stared at me with their mouths wide open. I bowed and left.”

“I’m impressed, La Flor.”

“I enjoyed our deep conversation.  A bit of a heads up for you, Ray.”

“What’s that, La Flor?”

“Deep conversations can be very boring. I think I would rather you talk about football. At least you know what you’re talking about, some of the time. Are you going to let me in your fantasy football league?”

“We have six weeks to think about it, La Flor”.

” Okay, in the meantime, I think I will text my alt ego friends to come on over and enjoy life with me. I’ll be happy we can spend time together. You don’t mind, do you, Ray?”alt ego friends to come on over and enjoy life with me. I’ll be happy we can spend time together. You don’t mind, do you, Ray?”

“You go girl.”

I like La Flor’s attitude, life is about living it, enjoying friends, filling the moments with love, happiness, and joy. La Flor grabs hold of life with both hands and won’t let go. I think I’ll do the same.

* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI.  It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.

 

 

 

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